


make me fade

by Anonymous



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Brat Tommyinnit (Video Blogging RPF), Child TommyInnit, Depression, Eating Disorders, Family Feels, Healthy Coping Mechanisms, Hurt TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Kissing, Non-Sexual Age Play, Protective Sleepy Bois Inc, Sick TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Sickfic, Sleepy Bois Inc Angst, Sleepy Bois Inc Fluff, Sleepy Bois Inc as Family, Team as Family, Tommy-centric, TommyInnit Angst (Video Blogging RPF), TommyInnit-centric (Video Blogging RPF), Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, agere! tommy, and theyre super sleepy, but Platonic - Freeform, can u guess this next tag, especially Tommy, everything platonic - Freeform, he's a major BITCH but we love him anyways
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-21
Packaged: 2021-03-23 18:27:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30059670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Everyone's worried about Tommy. He's constantly getting sick and overwhelmed, which is nothing out of the usual. But when he gets sick again, and he doesn't show any sign of getting better, they decide it's time for an intervention.Healing, as it turns out, is a little bit easier with people. And lucky for Tommy, there's a certain couple of tired boys who love him an awful lot.
Relationships: TommyInnit & Phil Watson, TommyInnit & Technoblade, Tommyinnit & Tubbo, Tommyinnit & Wilbur Soot, Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & TommyInnit & Phil Watson, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit & Phil Watson, no slash just platonic love
Comments: 51
Kudos: 759
Collections: Anonymous





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> TW: eating disorders, depression, age regression, angst 
> 
> **im not saying in this fic he has an eating disorder but it can be implied and i dont want to hurt anyone so he does have trouble eating but it's more depression-linked if that makes any sense

The pain was manageable — most of the time. It was hard, his stomach lurched at any movement and a fog filled his head. All he’d want to do is collapse against his bed and stay for a little while. 

Longer than a little while. 

When his phone would buzz, he’d get aggravated and power it off. It was a bad habit of his, but he just wanted the world to  _ go away.  _ Just to be alone for a minute, to be himself. 

To try and heal. 

Other days, he wasn’t so lucky. He had a full plate of responsibilities, and not enough motivation for a single damn one of them. 

Baby steps, Tommy. Baby steps. 

It took him half his morning to sit up. The blanket dropped to his side, and he was hyper aware of his fan being way too high. He shivered, but it wouldn’t be another minute before he managed enough energy to get up. 

Although he was shaking from the cold, he was sweaty and gross. His forehead was slick with sweat and his hair was matted. He couldn’t really smell too well, but it probably wasn’t good. 

He looked to his bathroom. 

Baby steps. 

He reached for his chair instead, powering up his PC. He was thankful when his mother suggested he switch to online school, but sometimes… it got lonely. It’s harder, somehow, to focus without the pressure of a classroom. Without people. 

“Just think about it, Tommy,” she had suggested after doing plenty of research. “It’d take some stress off your plate with streaming and all. Plus, you won’t have to deal with those mean—” 

Honestly, she’d been right. It did help him, not to have to shower, not to have to face those bastards at school. 

On the other hand, he had nothing to force him out of bed. 

Today is one of those days where he just  _ knows  _ he can’t get any work done. He’s just in that space, and he doesn’t want to move. He doesn’t want to even try. 

Talking with the others helps a lot. 

But more recently? It’s been…. bad. Talking about his problems don’t really solve his problems. He still feels like shit. 

It doesn’t make any sense really, and he doesn’t even understand it himself. He’s picked up this weird habit, and it feels wrong and he feels ashamed, but it’s so right and nothing has felt so  _ good  _ in a long time. 

It’s a mood he gets in. He knows it’s a thing – it’s not just him. Other people do it do. Regress. Get into a space where they’re younger than they physically are. 

He doesn’t really like it — the thought of acting like a child. 

But it makes him feel so much better. 

Having a bank account helps a lot. Today, he’s feeling desperate. A little sad. A little lonely. 

He should call someone, he really should. But he just doesn’t want to. 

Usually when he gets into his  _ mood  _ he locks his door. He likes to curl up under his blankets and watch children movies. He likes to play too but somehow it just makes him feel lonely. 

He knows it’s a little unorthodox to regress alone, but what other choices does he have? There’s no way in hell he would ever even try to bring this up in conversation. 

No matter how bad he wanted it. He likes to fantasize, dream about someone holding him, playing with him, sharing meals with him. 

Someone to be there with him. 

Tommy feels the space, but he doesn’t want it. Not today, not now. He falls back on his bed and curls up into a ball. He doesn’t fall asleep. 

His phone rings almost an hour later. He hadn’t been aware he’d been staring at a wall for a very long time. “Hello?” 

“Hey, hey, Toms, wanna play some jackbox with us?” 

Tommy rubbed at his face and slumped into his desk. He opened up discord and saw that all the others were in a call. “Okay,” he settled upon, ending the call abruptly and joining the call. “Sup, men. How we doin’ this fine Wednesday morning?” 

“Tommy, it’s Sunday.” 

Oops. Honest mistake. 

Everyone else in the call had their webcams on, but he didn’t quite want to turn his on. With everybody’s else on, though, it’d be weird if he just didn’t. He adjusted his camera before turning it on, and he hoped nobody could see how much shit he looked. 

“Wow, Tommy, you look like shit.” 

“You’re supposed to just think it, not say it,” Techno had reprimanded, but as he looked down into his screen, he whistled softly. “Whoa, Tommy, you do  _ not  _ want to know what I’m thinking right now.” 

“Oh, yeah? Well, I’m thinking you’re all bitches,” he retorted, huffing slightly. He swiped some of his hair out of his face only to reveal how red his face was. He tried to make himself more presentable, but the movement only gained him more shocked reactions. 

“How much did you sleep?” Phil cut in anxiously, overlapping all the other voices in the chat. 

He thought for a moment. “More than usual.” How much had it been? Four hours? 

He either slept for way too little or way too much. It was usually the first. 

These days, it’s hard for him to fall asleep. The anxiety eats away at him until late hours of the night, and it’s not until the exhaustion fully takes over that he can finally slip away. “And how much does that mean?” 

Tommy really wasn’t sure. “I’m fine,” he said instead. He didn’t know what else to say. It’s not like he was lying. He  _ did  _ sleep more than usual. And he was fine. It was fine. 

Tommy felt fine. 

“You really don’t look it,” Wilbur added. “Make sure you try and sleep some more tonight.” That was that; they were moving on. He was thankful for the situation to shift off of him. Any more intervention talk and he felt as if he’d break down. 

He made it through the call, and after a few hours of playing, they all started to say their goodbyes. “Kristen and I are going out for lunch,” Phil, the only one left in the call, had declared. 

“Oh, yeah, you go off, rub it in our faces,” he said, leaning back in his chair to prop his feet up on the desk, knocking off a coke in the process. “Go on a hot date with your wife.” 

Phil laughed. “You wanna go out to eat with us, Tommy?” 

They’d been making efforts to hang out more in person ever since Techno moved to the UK. He was still looking for a permanent home, and he only stayed for weeks at a time. Sometimes he crashed at Wil’s, sometimes (rarer) at Phil’s. 

“No,” he settled upon. “I don’t want to steal Kristen from you.” 

“I don’t think she’s into sixteen-year-olds, Tommy.” 

“Only Minecraft Gods, I understand,” he said, sighing. “Phil, how does it feel that the family bloodline ends with you?” 

“It’s what keeps me up at night,” he joked, but his smile fell across his face after it fell silent in the call. “You sure you don’t wanna go out to eat something?” 

“Nah, it’s getting late,” he replied, no hesitation. “I have some homework to finish.” 

“But you’ll eat, right?” 

“Yeah, of course.” 

He was unsure, but there was calling in the background - Kristen, asking if he was ready to go. “I gotta get going, Tommy. Good luck with your homework. Try not to be up too late tonight, okay?” 

“Yes, yes. Got it, thanks, Dad.” 

He said a goodbye before cutting off the call. 

Tommy dropped his forehead against the table. 

He pulled up his homework and turned on some music to try and focus on his work. He did manage to get a little bit done, but it was getting harder and harder to stay awake. 

How the fuck had it already been an hour? 

His stomach growled. A sharp pain was running through him, and he knew he was long overdue for some food. He made his way into the kitchen with the full intent of finding food. 

He was just so tired. He could easily heat up some macaroni, but it just took too much effort. He huffed at the empty fridge, settling for a coke on the bottom tray, and returned to his room. 

By nighttime, he was halfway done with his homework and still hadn’t eaten anything. The hunger was back in his mind, and everything was fuzzy. Sleep came quicker to him tonight than it did yesterday. 

When he woke up, though, he was covering his mouth with his hand. He quickly pushed his laptop (which he’s fallen asleep on top of) to the side and reached for his waste bin. He dry heaved, cutting off his breathing as he panicked to control himself. Everything burned - his stomach, his throat. His head was throbbing, and he was spinning. 

The taste in his mouth was so disgusting that he quickly reached for an almost empty coke bottle. He downed the rest of it before collapsing against the bed. 

He should shower. It might help him feel better, but he can’t find it in him to get back up. He grabs his phone, scrolls through the medias until his eyes flutter shut. 

When he wakes again, there’s light streaming into his room. His head is heavy, and his stomach still burns. 

He should try and do some work. Or shower. Or eat. 

Anything. Something. 

Not nothing. 

He sits up, swings his feet over the bed, and topples over to the floor. He reels, climbing for his trash bin, but nothing comes out of his mouth this time. He rasped, a sharp pain in his chest, but it all stops there. He lets go, panting, and drops his head against the floor. 

He’s just so tired. 

\--

“Tommy? Tommy, are you okay?” 

He’s being shaken awake by his mother, whose face is laced with concern. “Fine,” he managed, creaking his eyes open. His voice is hoarse. “Did I fall out of bed?” 

She deflated. “Tommy, don’t work yourself too hard,” she cooed. “You’re simply exhausted.” 

“I’m fine, Mom,” he spat, sharper than he had intended. She recoiled, but it wasn’t anything she was used to. He softened his voice after a deep sigh. “I’m okay. Just… didn’t sleep well.” 

It was a lie and a half. He’d slept more than he has in weeks, which isn’t really saying much. He could fall asleep easily, but he didn’t really stay asleep. When he woke up, he didn’t feel any better. 

“You wanna go back to bed?” she suggested. “I can put dinner up in the fridge for you.” 

His stomach stung at the mention. “What is it?” 

“I made some roast--” 

Tommy was up out of his chair in an instant. She’d made his favorite tonight, and it was a stupid little thing, but he excitedly took a plate and took to his desk. He’d started up his homework again with his plate in his lap. 

His Discord started to go off, and he picked up the call. “Hello, Wilbur!” 

“Wanna play Bedwars later?” 

“Can’t,” he hummed. “Eating and doing homework.” He lifted up his plate to show him. 

“Whoa, Tommyinnit, actually doing work?” 

“I know, I know. It shocks me too.” He paused. “You’re just jealous of Motherinnit’s cooking. I bet if I asked she’d save you some.” 

“You’d only end up eating it,” he said instead, smiling. “I’ll leave you to it.” 

“Wait--” 

“I don’t wanna disrupt your flow. Who knows when it’ll hit you again?” He left the call. He was probably right. 

To his merit, he did manage to finish up the rest of his work for the week. He really needed to get it out of the way so he could focus on streaming and, of course, taking care of himself. Maybe clean his room. 

He kept it clean for the stream, but it was a mess in the spots the camera didn’t pick up. The mess really bothered him, but he couldn’t find it in him to clean it. He had so many other things that he was still trying to get around to that it was at the bottom of his list. 

Against his word, though, Wilbur popped back into the call. An hour later, not even. “You done yet? Wanna play?” 

“Just finished,” he sighed. “Are you streaming tonight?” 

“I was planning on it,” he said, stopping for a minute. “Tommy, you haven’t touched your food.” 

He looked down. 

He hadn’t taken a single bite. “This is seconds.” 

He was chewing on the inside of his lip. What the hell was wrong with him? He stabbed a piece off and forced it into his mouth. Was it just him, or did it take longer to chew? It was heavy on his tongue, and he felt it sit heavy in his stomach. 

“I’ll stream tonight too,” he said instead, wanting to get away from this conversation as fast as possible. 

“You should clean up a little,” Wilbur added, earning a sharp glare from him. “Sorry, Tommy, but when was the last time you showered?” His hesitation didn’t go unnoticed. “If you have to think about it, it’s been too long. Go on.” 

He rolled his eyes but left the call. He didn’t really want to argue; he didn’t really want to stream. He didn’t really want to do anything. 

But he also really didn’t want to be alone. 

He could force himself into his space, watch a movie, curl under his blanket, but he didn’t want that. He didn’t want to feel anymore lonely than he already was. 

So he decided to play tonight. With Wilbur there, it wouldn’t be that bad. It was going to be okay. He could do this. 

He can’t do this. He topples over before he’s even in the shower. He’s so dizzy with only the handle of the shower keeping him upright. He feels sick. 

He grips his phone tight and shuts off the lights. Climbs into the shower and instantly falls down, cradling his legs. He closes his eyes, just for a second. 

He’s been in too long, but he was long overdue for a shower anyways. He quickly washes his hair, basking in the scalding hot stream pouring over his head. It’s not until he’s out of the shower and dried that he turns on the lights. He still looks like shit, but hopefully he’s washed some off the grime off of his skin. 

“How we doin’ tonight, boys?” 

He knew keeping up his persona for more than an hour was going to be hard, but if he had known it was going to be this excruciatingly painful to keep his eyes open, he would’ve planned tonight just a little bit differently. 

He pushes through it, trying his best to keep his shit together before his friends notice - or, worse,  _ chat.  _

And when the bile starts to build up in his throat, he fucking panics. He turns off his camera, but he wasn’t fast enough. Terrified of throwing up on his expensive setup, he fell to the side and once again reached for his waste basket that really needs to be cleaned. 

“Tommy?” Wilbur’s voice was booming out of the headset. “Tommy, you okay?” 

His phone started to ring. Slowly, he picked himself up. 

“Sorry about that. I just remembered I have an essay to do.” He ends stream quickly, falling back into his chair. He could fall asleep right here. 

He really could’ve. 

Until his phone started to ring. “Sorry, Wil,” he apologized. He pinched the bridge of his nose and scowled. “I completely forgot about this assignment. It-” 

“Cut the shit,” he spat roughly. “You didn’t unmute. I heard you.” 

“Oh.” He barked out a laugh. “I hope your stream enjoyed that.” 

Wilbur didn’t laugh. “Are you feeling okay?” 

“Just ate too much earlier.” The lie burned his throat, or was that more bile? “Sorry for having to leave, honestly. Maybe ask Phil? I bet he’d--” 

“I don’t care about that,” he interrupted. “I was just worried for you. You get sick too often, Tommy.” 

“And I’m not dead yet.” He laughed. Wilbur didn’t. His silence unnerved him so he was quick to add, “I’m okay, seriously.” 

He was not okay. He was so, terribly, not okay. 

Wilbur didn’t buy it, even for a second. But he let it go. “Get some rest.” 

“I am. Again, sorry about the--” 

“Go the fuck to sleep, child.” He left the chat quickly, and Tommy just hummed, closing his eyes, sinking in his chair with his headphones on. Sleep sounded really good about now, actually. 

\-- 

“Is he…” Wilbur had called up Phil, and to both of their dismay, they found Tommy. Still in the call. 

From an hour ago. 

His neck was bent at an angle that could not have been comfortable, and he was drooling slightly. He was sweating again, and his face was flushed a deep red. His microphone picked up heavy breathing - a slight hissing with every exhale. 

“He’s not taking care of himself,” Phil said, anger buried deep in his voice. “Wasn’t he just sick not too long ago?” 

“He threw up earlier. I don’t think he’s barely eaten anything lately,” he noted, cringing as he took in another shaky breath. “I’m gonna ask his Mum if he can come over and stay for a little while.” 

“He’s not gonna wanna go if he knows you wanna dot over him.” He paused. “I’ll come over too. So it’s less weird.” 

Realization dawned over Phil. It was too easy to read Wilbur’s furrowed eyebrows when he felt the same way. “You’re worried. You want to see him.” 

“Yeah,” he’d said, only blushing slightly. “Can you blame me?” 

“No. Not at all.” 

He was just as ready to throw the world away if it meant for him to get better. 

“I’m worried too. Oh, and, so is Techno.” 

Wilbur looked down at his phone where he had spammed the group chat. 

**_Techno_ **

_ Has anyone talked to Tommy today???  _

_ Or watched his stream?  _

_ Something’s definitely wrong.  _

Yeah, they couldn’t agree more. 

**_Wilbur Soot_ **

_ Intervention time, boys?  _

**_Sleepy Bois Inc_ **

**_Wilbur Soot_ **

_ everyone wan come spend the night ? _

**_Mr. Minecraft Himself_ **

_ Yes. I’ll bring snacks. _

**_Tommyinnit is typing…_ **

The bubbles stopped. 

Then started again. 

**_Techno_ **

_ I’ll be a little late. Six okay?  _

**_Tommyinnit_ **

**i still have some work to do**

Phil’s breath caught in his throat. 

**_Wilbur_ **

_ i haven’t seen u in so long tho!  _

**_Tommyinnit_ **

_ YOU LITERALLY JJSIDT SAW ME LIKE A WEEK AGO _

_ WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN  _

**_Wilbur_ **

_ I’ll pick you up in a couple hours. jus bring ur laptop w u or somethin and do some work here.  _

**_Tommyinnit_ **

_ Lemme go ask motherinnit _

**_Wilbur_ **

_ Already said yes. See you soon ;)  _

That rat bastard.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> HI THIS IS MY INTERPRETATION SO M SORRY IF THIS ISNT RELATABLE OR SOMETHING BUT UH 
> 
> ALSO IW ROTE HALF OF THIS WHILE DRUNK CAN YOU TELL

**Part II**

Tommy hadn’t answered him shortly after that, so he got out of his car and knocked up on his door. His mother opened the door. “Thank you for coming to pick him up!” she said, hand over her heart. “He’s in his room.” 

He smiled and greeter her before following her motion down to his room. He knocked on the door and waited for a response. “Tommy?” No reply. “I’m coming in.” 

He twisted the door open to find Tommy slumped over his backpack in a very uncomfortable position. “Toms?” he tried again, gently shaking him. 

He stirred, opening his eyes slowly and sunk against the hands on his shoulders. Wilbur let out a laugh as he gripped onto him suddenly, dropping his weight. “Come on, buddy, you ready to go?” The softness of his voice surprised even him, but the mess of blonde hair tucked under his chin just coaxed it out of him. 

“Huh?” he slurred slowly as he shook him a little harder. His eyes fully opened and settled on him, recognition registering across his face. A sleepy grin spread out over his face, and Tommy was ecstatic. He clenched his fists from where Wilbur’s sweater was balled in his hand. And then he fully woke up. “What the fuck, Wil? Stop bein’ so clingy!” 

Wilbur furrowed his eyebrows. “What do you mean?” Tommy pushed him away from him and sat up straighter. “You’re the one cudd--” 

“No! No, no!” Tommy staggered to his feet and swung his backpack over his shoulder. “How’d--Where’d you come from?” 

“Your mom.” 

… 

“She let me in.” 

Tommy threw his hands up in the air. “Of course she did.” 

“You got everything?” he asked as Tommy gave his room one last look over before shaking his head. Tommy stumbled a bit when he walked, Wilbur there to steady him. He made a soft scoffing sound before pushing past him out the door. 

His mother caught up with Wilbur before he left. “Thanks again.” 

“Of course! I really don’t mind driving out here to pick him up. It’s no trouble at all. Hopefully when Techno moves here, we’ll have a bit less of a drive.” 

“That’s not really what I meant.” She smiled wryly. “Thanks for being so kind to my boy.” It faded. “I fear he’s not doing so well sometimes. Kinda lonely that one.” 

“We’ll take good care of him.” It was a promise. “We were hoping a small vacation would do him some good.” She started fishing through her purse. 

“Ever since those boys at school started teasing him, he hasn’t been the same.” Wilbur didn’t even try to hide his surprise. “The stress is a bit too much, but he’s at that age where he doesn’t want to listen to me, when I tell him to take a break. Maybe… he’ll listen to you?” 

“I’ll do my best,” he said, and she grabbed ahold of his hand to drop some money. “Oh, no, you really don’t—“ 

“Just make sure you boys are fed and have a good time.” 

“That’s really nice of you.” She didn’t leave any option for him to do protest. “He… he didn’t mention trouble at school. Was it…?” 

“It’s why he’s doing online now,” she replied shortly. “I still don’t understand how children can be so mean.” 

“What did they do—“ 

“Wilbur!” Tommy exclaimed, bursting the door open. “What’s taking you so long?” 

His mother smiled before waving. “You boys have fun. And be safe!” 

The information she left with him didn’t sit well. How much did Tommy keep from them? 

It wasn’t as if he bottled things up. In fact, Tommy came to them often with advice. He’d ask about editing, about relationships, about social situations, about homework, about pretty much anything — even girls. 

But never had he mentioned  _ bullies.  _ He’d commented once or twice about how  _ cool  _ it was to be a Minecraft player in college and how well accepted that was. 

It made sense. Kids were mean. 

“Wilbur, what are you being all quiet for?” Tommy was whining almost, fiddling with the display of his car. 

“Stop it,” he scolded, swatting away his hand. “It’s really hot in here.” 

“I’m freezing,” he mumbled, cranking the heat up. Wilbur let him have it, even though his forehead was covered with sweat. “You seem like you’re in a bad mood.” 

“No, no.” He shook his head. “No, I’m good, sorry. Just thinking.” What a shit caretaker was he — needlessly worrying the man he should be worrying about. “How’s school going?” 

Clearly the wrong question to ask because he slouched down. “Fine.” He rolled down his window and scowled. “Can we listen to something happier?” 

“My aux cord is down there.” Tommy plugged in his music. He was still deep in his thoughts — he couldn’t help it but overthink about Tommy and his shivering and his Mother’s fear of him being alone. How bad had he failed? 

As soon as the music started, Wilbur realized his mistake. There was a reason they never gave him the aux. He almost always put on shit music, meme-y music. Something chaotic. 

It was the red flag of all red flags when Tommy put on some calming music. He started humming onto the words, and Wilbur couldn’t help but join him. 

His voice started to get a little loud, but it wasn’t anything he wasn’t used to. He smiled, basking in the warmth Tommy was emitting as he happily sang along to the  _ Steven Universe  _ song playing. 

Until he broke off into a cough and didn’t stop for a short while. He kept glancing at him, trying to keep his eyes on the road and watch him at the same time. Man, he really should’ve brought Techno or Phil along with him. 

He settled for one hand on the wheel and one hand against Tommy’s back. He shied away from the touch, and Wilbur let him go. He didn’t say anything. He couldn’t — not when Tommy looked so embarrassed. 

It only got worse when they got to the house. 

“Philza!” Tommy roared, voice slurring as he latched onto him before breaking away quickly. Tommy was awkward with contact but not like how Techno was. Tommy was stiff and unsure; if a hug was initiated with him, he’d gladly reciprocate before fleeing. Techno, however, was a little different. He didn’t initiate it, and he often turned down hugs. 

And when they settled down for the night to play some games (no recording, today, they decided), and Techno wrapped an arm around Tommy, red flag number 670 for the night was being waved. 

Phil had looked up in deep shock when he noticed it, but it hadn’t been unwarranted. 

Tommy had begun to slump over. He’d close his eyes only to flutter them back open in a panic. He’d try to focus on the game, add to the conversation, earn a laugh or too only to start to drift off to sleep again. 

“Tommy, you alright, mate?” 

At Phil’s words, he jerked awake, sitting up straighter with his eyes flying open. “Yes.” 

“Uh-huh,” he hummed, not taking a single word for it. “You sure you’re not sleepy?” 

Tommy made a soft noise from the back of his throat. The others exchanged concerned looks as he rubbed at his eyes. “Am not,” he managed again, letting out a loud yawn. “Not sleepy. Mhm-hmm.” 

“How much sleep did you get, kiddo?” Tommy melted further, but he was slapping himself in the face. 

“Enough!” he whined. “Maybe I’m falling asleep because you’re so  _ boring. _ ” 

“I don’t think that’s true,” Wilbur mocked. “I think you haven’t been sleeping.” 

At the accusation, Techno caught his chin and twisted his face towards him. “I only called you a raccoon as a joke, Tommy. I didn’t think you’d take me seriously.” 

“Oh, piss off!” He wiped at his face, but there was no getting rid of the dark circles under his eyes. “Hey, where’d the game go? I was winning.” 

Phil scoffed. “We changed it, remember? To watch a movie?” 

He gasped. “But I was winning!” 

Wilbur bit his lip. “You really weren’t.” 

They had trouble deciding on what to watch, and the others were talking about the titles. Seemed like as good as a time as any to close his eyes again. Just for a second, before they noticed-- “Tommy, what do you think?” 

“I love women.” 

Wilbur blinked up at him. “You…” He broke into a laugh. “Tommy, I… That’s a yes, then?” 

“We’re watching a Disney Princess movie, I guess,” Phil said, laughing as he started up the movie. 

“Wait, what?” 

“I asked, ‘What about Princess and the frog?’ And you said, ‘I love women.’” 

Ah. 

Oops. 

“Were you not listening?” A rosy pink blush dusted his cheeks. “Perhaps… falling asleep?” 

“Oh, piss off,” he whined, rubbing at his face again. Arguing only made it harder for him to keep his eyes open. He reached clumsily for his soda, but Wilbur was quick to snatch it out of his reach. “My coke!” 

“I don’t think you need any caffeine this late,” Wilbur said. 

“It’s not even past eight,” Tommy spat in response. “Hand it over.” 

“No.” 

“Wilbur. Give it.” 

“No.” 

“Boys,” Phil cut in. “Stop teasing him, Wilbur.” Tommy grinned and held his hand out. “No soda for you, though. He’s right. I can get you some water, or some juice?” Tommy made a strangled noise, but before he could get mad about it, Phil was off the couch and returning with a juice box in hand. He mumbled a muffled thanks before poking his straw through it. 

The movie started to play, and Tommy sipped at the box, trying really hard to stay awake. The juice had been a great idea, especially for his throat. He pushed his blanket away and slapped himself in the face again. It wasn’t even late, remotely. Yet, here he was, falling asleep on the couch. 

He was feeling really shitty. His head was pounding, and he didn’t feel the need to throw up, but even here, in a room with his friends, he felt really far away. When the sad part of the film came on, he didn’t know what to do. He wasn’t going to cry at a disney film, no. He wasn’t. 

But… sometimes, when you’re feeling really bad, it just takes the stupidest thing to send you over. 

But no. Tommy wasn’t going to be bested by a princess movie. No way, no how. 

He inhaled a sharp breath and cooled himself. 

His courage crumbled down the second Techno wrapped an arm around his side and snugged him close to his side. He really never initiates affection, and the sudden movement caught him so offguard, he couldn’t help but make a small squeak. He settled against him, scared to make any sound and ruin the moment. 

Techno rubbed his thumb absent-mindedly over his side, and Tommy squirmed at the ticklish feeling. He didn’t move, though. He couldn’t. 

“You’re shivering,” Techno spoke, voice rumbling against his chest. Tommy only hummed in response, not really caring to listen. Techno sighed softly, giving up on any valid conversation between them. 

And then Tommy was being moved. He managed to open his eyes when a hand dug under each armpit and yanked him up. Before he knew it, he was on top of Techno’s lap and he was being wrapped in a blanket. 

“Feel better?” Tommy couldn’t voice his content and settled for burying his head into his neck. Techno laughed, placing a warm hand against his back. “I’ve never seen you so clingy, buddy. You must be feeling really bad, huh?” 

_ I’ve never seen you so affectionate  _ is what Tommy wanted to say, but he wasn’t going to risk scaring away the best feeling he’s had in weeks. He only hums against his chest. 

“What hurts, Tommy?” He tapped his throat, and Techno made a humming sound. “Anything else?” 

“My ‘tomach,” he slurred back. “M’ hot.” Techno went to move him and the blanket, and he quickly whined and swatted at him. “Cold, cold!” 

“Thought you were hot?” 

“No.” Then, barely audible. “Don’t go anywhere.” 

“What’d you say?” 

Tommy sucked in a deep breath. “I said,” he growled, voice raising in pitch. “Don’t go anywhere. Just… stay.” He leaned his head back to stare at him with full eyes. “Please?” 

His heart wrenched. “I’m right here, Tommy.” He buried his head against his chest, gripping onto his jacket with his hand. “It’s okay.” 

By the time the movie ended, Tommy was fast asleep on Techno’s lap. It was a crime to disturb him when he was sleeping so peacefully, but Wilbur knew it’d been all day since he’s eaten anything. 

When Tommy is woken up again, he’s met with a warm bowl of soup. “Wha…?” he asked, rubbing at his face. “What--Hey!” He jumped off of Techno, stumbling to the ground. The sudden movement had his head reeling, but he couldn’t care about that now. “What kinda clingy bastards?” 

“You’re a little touch-starved, mate,” Phil added. “Clung to Techno like a koala.” 

“Like a raccoon,” he corrected, holding his finger in the air. 

“Whatever it was, it was kinda cute,” Wilbur cooed. “Come on, bud. I’m hungry.” 

“That’s Big Man to you,” he spat. “What’re you all coddling me for?” 

While Phil exchanged a knowing glance to the others in the room, Tommy was met with a burning anxiety in his stomach. Fuck, he was really losing his grip. 

It’s not that he didn’t have control over his actions. He controlled when he regressed. Slipping into little space was a deliberate decision for him, but that didn’t mean resisting was any easier. 

When he was really stressed, it was hard for him to resist. When the world became too much for him, he could shut down and slip into the space. What he’s feeling right now? He’s never had it forced on him like this. 

Being with the others was forcing him into littlespace, and his grip on reality was drifting away from him. He could’ve even care about it, though, with Phil wrapping him in a tight hug and ruffling his messy hair. 

“You’ll feel better after some proper food,” he assured, ruffling his hair once more before being swatted away by a flimsy hand. 

“I feel fine.” It was a weak protest. He didn’t believe it himself, and it was obvious by the tone of his voice. 

“There’s not a soul in here who believes that,” Techno countered. “Sit down at the table.” 

Pouting, Tommy fell into the chair. The others were turned around in the kitchen by the stove, and his heart sank. He climbed out, tripping over the chair and crashing to the floor. 

“Tommy!” 

“Stupid,” he cursed under his breath as Wilbur helped him up. “The table moved.” 

“Tommy… Did you trip standing up?” 

…

“No.” 

His face was beet red. 

“Okay, Toms, we’re gonna sit down, okay? No moving.” Tommy opened his mouth, but Phil lifted up a finger to silence him. He tapped his nose, stilling Tommy in an instant. “If you need something, we’ll get it for you.” 

Tommy couldn’t argue with that. He fell back into the chair, careful not to trip once again. Still, alone at the table, his heart sank. It was stupid, but his mood was already taking a turn for the worse. 

With no one to talk to him to keep him awake, he closed his eyes. His stomach burned, and when the bowl clanked against the table, he sat up again. Phil had set a small bowl in front of him with some juice. “Try and eat as much as you can,” he encouraged. 

Tommy nodded. He could do that. He could try. He popped the spoon into his mouth before cringing. “That’s fucking hot!” he hissed, dropping the spoon and waving his hand. He started to chug at his drink, but Wilbur tugged his hand away after a few sips. 

“You’re gonna get sick,” he warned. “Just breathe, Tommy.” 

“You need to blow on it, mate. It just finished.” 

Tommy raised it to his lips again and blew on it before taking a bite. “It’s really good,” he said. “Thank you, Phil.” 

He smiled. “Eat up. Before it gets cold.” 

The table broke into conversation - the others tearing into their own bowls. 

It didn’t take long for them to notice a certain someone stopped contributing to the conversation. Tommy still had his spoon in his hand, barely lifting it up to his mouth with his eyes closed. 

“Tommy.” He jerked awake, spilling the spoonful over the table. “Mate.” 

He was such a hot mess. “Honestly,” Wilbur grumbled, scooting his chair closer to him. He scooped a spoonful and raised it to Tommy, who was so out of it he let him spoon feed him. “Holy shit, he actually…” 

Wilbur hummed in amusement as he carefully lifted up spoonful after spoonful to Tommy’s lips. He blew on it and resisted the urge to make a plane joke. 

“I got it, Wil,” Phil cut in. “You need to eat too.” 

“I actually take care of myself,” Wilbur said but dropped the spoon anyway. “Unlike some people.” 

“I’ve never seen him so quiet.” Techno had long forgotten his own food. He rested his chin in his palm and studied the sleeping boy with a meticulous eye. “I don’t like it.” 

“Before we left--” Wilbur cleared his throat. “His mother told me that Tommy… He’d had some trouble with the kids at school.” The room hung on every word. He gulped. “They… they were being mean. And… apparently, Tommy’s been a bit lonely since then. According to her.” 

“It’s too much for a child,” Phil exhaled. “He’s only sixteen. Hard to believe he’s accomplished so much, and he’s not even old enough to buy a drink or drive. Can you imagine what he’ll be capable of as an adult?” 

Techno hummed in agreement. 

Wilbur bit his lip. “Has… Has anyone noticed he’s been different?” Everyone was trained on him. “Like… loopy? Weird?” 

“He’s sick, Wil.” 

“No, I know.” He fumbled with his hands. “I meant… like clingy. And childish. More than his usual self.” 

“It’s Tommy.” 

“Do I need to point out the first food he’s had in days is from being spoon-fed?” Wilbur tried in exasperation. 

Phil sighed. “I had… suspicions. About Tommy.” They were almost done with the small bowl. He didn’t want to feed him too much and make him more sick. “He’s ill, but that’s not it. It’s not just the stress, he… I think he’s a regressor.” 

“Like…” 

“Like he’s an actual child.” 

Wilbur clasped his hands together. “I don’t know, Phil. I think he’s just acting a little childish because he’s a bit overwhelmed. We shouldn’t make assumptions.” 

“Right. Forget I said anything.” Phil couldn’t let it go. 

It was on all of their minds, throughout the night. Tommy was in a sleepy-state the whole night, and he was grabby and clingy. He hadn’t spoken for a long while, but he’d make soft whines when someone left and small sighs of relief when someone brushed the hair out of his face. 

Currently, he was curled up against Phil on his recliner. He couldn’t shake the feeling. 

Wilbur and Techno had left for their rooms, and when Phil tried to lay Tommy down in a bed, he instantly cried out. Cut to him on the chair with a clingy Tommy in his arms. 

“I’m too old to be sleeping in a recliner,” he said, scoffing as Tommy made a loud whine. He studied him carefully. “Tommy, can you look at me for a second?” He tore his eyes open, locking in his gaze. “How old are you?” Tommy looked away, but he caught his chin. “You can tell me, sweetheart. It’s okay.” 

His shoulders drooped and Tommy let out what sounded like a sob. “Lil’.” 

That was enough for him. “Okay, okay,” he said, rubbing circles into his back. “It’s okay, little one. It’s all alright.” He only melted further. “You’ve been doing really good tonight, you know? Such a good boy.” He pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Ate so much at dinner. Sleeping so much.” 

“I don’t like it,” Tommy confessed, the most he’d spoken in hours. “Everything’s too much. ‘M bein’ lazy. Bad.” 

“You’re good,” he said instead. “We’ll be happy when our little boy is healthy again. You’re sick, Tommy. You’re hurting.” He whined. “It’s okay to be small.” 

“Don’t wan’ be,” he mumbled. “‘S hard.” 

“How come?” 

“You,” he huffed. “Wilby. Technie. Make it hard.” 

“I’m sorry?” 

“You’re all too nice!” he huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “Makes it difficult to stay big when you’re all clingy.” 

Phil let out a harsh laugh. “That’s your own fault, sweetheart. You bring it out of us.” 

“Do not.” 

“You  _ so  _ do,” he shot back, cupping his cheek. “We’re all worried about you, baby.” 

He scrunched his nose. “Bein’ mean, Phil, stop.” 

“I’m sorry,” he apologized sincerely. “Is it too much? Am I overstepping?” 

Tommy bit his lip. “You’re,” he tried, struggling with his words, “making it really hard to stay big.” 

“I don’t think you’ve been big at any point tonight.” Tommy pinched him. “Hey!” 

_ “Mean.”  _

“Just the truth.” He squirmed away from him but didn’t go too far. “Do you have a little bag?” 

Tommy looked to his backpack across the room. Hesitantly, he got up and searched through it, pulling out a small toy and crinkling it in his hands. “Is that all you brought?” 

Tommy furrowed his eyebrows. “All I got.” 

“Oh, Tommy.” Tommy’s fingers fumbled with the toys. “How about we go out tomorrow and buy you some stuff?” He took in his sweaty face and added, “If you’re feeling better.” 

“Not sick.” 

“You’ve got a fever, for sure,” he said, holding his hand against his forehead. “Malnourished, dehydrated…” He listed off, a small smile breaking across his face. “Not to mention so hug deprived it’s not even funny.” 

“Am not.” 

“You sure about that?” Tommy nodded vigorously. “You’ve been  _ very  _ clingy, Tommy. I think you’re touch-starved.” To prove his point, he ran a hand over his side, and he shivered. “It’s okay, baby, I don’t mind. I want to help you.” 

“Really?” 

“Of course,” he cooed. “I want our little Tommy to feel good. Are you okay with this?” Tommy nodded shyly, hiding his smile behind the toy in his hands. “We’ll talk more when you’re big, okay? For now, I think we should go to bed.” Tommy whined. He was a bratty little. He could already tell. “Do you want to sleep in your room?” He shook his head. “In mine?” He hesitated. Then nodded. “Okay, buddy.” 

It was a good thing Kristen decided she was staying at a friend’s house because he’s not sure how much she would’ve liked them taking up the bed. He tucked Tommy in, carefully handing him his toy before climbing in next to him. Tommy fell asleep quickly, but Phil wasn’t that tired yet. 

He pulled out his phone and started his google search. It really was unacceptable for Tommy to have such a small supply, really. It was also tragic to think of him suffering alone and being little alone. If he’s in the mental space of what seems like a young child, how terrified was he? To be by himself? 

He didn’t want to think about it. He could only think about it, to try and understand the enigma that was tommy. 

He’d talk to him in the morning, try and start the path to fixing things. To helping him. 

But for now? He had a boy to cuddle. He fell asleep with a small smile on his face and a mess of blonde hair tucked under his chin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AH NO constructive criticism pls be nice this is purely for fun and bc im sad and venting
> 
> uhhhh yall lemme know if u want more or something i plan on doing like three parts but little tommy is just so cute an i love him and protective sbi 
> 
> and uh,,, might do requests? no promises at all but if u want something and i like the idea i might write it lMAO but no promises but ig i'll try as loong as it lines up w my c r e a t i v e i forgot the other word uh yeah i srysl wrote this a ittle drunk pls be nice ok bye i love u guys unless ur mean uh bye


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hi also i wrote this in a car ride on dramamine so if its weird its bc of that  
> also i have no beta can u tell   
> we die like george in manhunt   
> ^^stole that joke from somewhere idk where i read it  
> anyways  
> uh  
> enjoy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: light angst ig, separation anxiety, social anxiety, uh there's a scene where they're teasing him and tommy's like "stop!! pls!!" but it's playful, theyre just having fun 
> 
> **pls note irl if ur playing w ur friends make sure they're actually ok (some people do not tolerate touch the same way you do, jst keep that in mind pls !)  
> **this is fiction and tommy is very happy just isnt honest about it bc he's embarassed (that said, don't harass ur friends irl LMAO anyways

**Part III**

Techno had never been much of an easy sleeper. He had a hard enough time sleeping at home and a little harder time sleeping at someone else’s. He was the first to wake up, and he was planning on staying in his room but his stomach had other plans. 

He rose, abandoning his room to find some breakfast, but he was met with Kristen, curled up on the couch with a mug in her hand. 

“Hi,” he greeted, somewhat startled. 

“Hello,” she chirped back, sipping away at her mug. “There’s some coffee left in the pot, if you’d like some.” 

“And I thought all they had here was tea.” 

She shook her hand. “I’m barely functionable without it. Not really a morning person.” 

He rose his eyebrows. “Hate to tell you, but it’s seven am.” 

She sheepishly smiled. “I left my mate’s house early on, but once I got home, there was someone in my bed.” 

“Phil hogging the blankets?” 

She clicked her tongue and hid a small smile behind her coffee mug. “Couch isn’t that bad. I wanted to start making breakfast soon anyways.” 

“Oh, you don’t have to do that.” 

“Of course I do,” she replied quickly.

“At least let me help you.” She got off the couch and started for the kitchen, already preparing him a cup of coffee. 

“Are you any good in the kitchen?” she asked, eyeing him suspiciously as he opened the fridge. 

“...Eggs, I can manage. Breakfast isn’t really that hard, right?” 

Turns out, there’s quite a bit he could learn from her. It only took them about half an hour to prepare breakfast, and he was starving by the end of it. He kept stealing some chocolate chips when he could, but it was very little to tide him over. 

“Well done!” she praised, beaming at the food in front of them. “Phil was right about you.” He looked up at that, dying to ask what the hell that meant, but she was moving past it. “What time will the others be waking, you think?” 

“They’ll sleep in until noon. Streamer schedule.”

“Oh, I know,” she sighed softly. “Should we wait?” 

His stomach grumbled loudly. “Maybe not. I’ll go wake them up.” 

“Wait!” She yelped, and he stopped in his tracks. “Uh, I’ll go get Phil and Tommy, and you get Wilbur.” 

“You sure you want to wake him up?” he asked hesitantly. “He’s kind of a menace. Especially in the morning.”

She bit her lip. “Phil can get him, don’t worry. You and Wilbur start without us.” She left for their room, and Techno shrugged it off. 

Wilbur was sprawled out in his bed with his arm hung off the side. “Wilbur,” he called, getting no response. He kicked the bed, and he rolled over with a growl. “Breakfast is ready.” 

“What—?” he asked, pinching at his face. “Techno?” 

“Food’s ready.” 

“What time is it?” He rubbed at his face, following Techno out of the room with a loud yawn. 

“Breakfast time.” 

Wilbur grabbed him a tea bag out of the cabinet, not wanting to start with anything else. Techno stood, impatiently tapping his foot. 

“Just go ahead,” he said. “You made it, right? No one can be mad if you eat first. Besides, who knows when Tommy will get up.”

“Kristen did most of the work.” 

“Explains why it looks so good.” 

They both looked down at it. Shifted foot to foot. “They wouldn’t be mad if we ate a tiny bit, would they?” 

Techno was already reaching for a piece of bacon. 

Meanwhile, Kristen creaked open the door to their room. Sure enough, the boys were right where she’d last seen them. 

“Phil,” she whispered, barely jostling him. “Hey.” 

He woke up easily, eyes flying open. His surprise melted into adoration. “Hi, Kristen. You just get back?” 

“Yeah,” she lied, smiling softly. “Can you wake up Tommy for breakfast?” 

The surprise came back to his face. “Oh.” He scratched at the back of his neck. “Yeah, I got it.”

She left the room quietly, stealing one last look at the two before shutting the door. 

Phil didn’t know where to start with waking up Tommy. He was rehearsing in his head what he was going to say, but Tommy was already stirring, and time was running out. 

Tommy shifted in his sleep, raising his arms out to the side. He yawned loudly, rubbing at his eyes sleepily. “Mhm, Phil?” he asked, blinking up at him. “What--?” His memories came flooding back to him. He sat up quickly, climbing out of the bed. His foot got caught in the blankets, and he was sent flying into the ground, but Phil snagged an arm around him and held him close. 

“You okay?” he asked, carefully setting him back, but he was already twisting away from him. 

“I’m fine,” he settled for. His back was turned to him. 

“Are you sure?” 

“Yes, I am fine!” 

… 

“Can you look at me?” 

He shook his head. 

“Tommy,” he sang, sitting up and turning himself towards him. “Look at me, buddy.” 

“Cut it out,” he whined, covering his face. “Stop doing that.” 

Phil thought for a moment, morning brain struggling to catch up with Tommy. “Are you embarrassed?” 

He jolted. Right on the nail. “No!” 

Phil hummed. “Are you little right now?” 

“No!” he hissed, covering his face. He turned around and pointed an angry finger at Phil. “Cut it out, Phil! It’s… mean.” He fumbled with his hands. “I… I’m sorry about last night. I didn’t mean to, and I… I don’t want you to make fun of me. Just… forget last night even happened.” 

“Do you really want that?” He flinched. “Do you… have someone, Tommy?” Tommy brought his fist to his mouth and bit down on it. He shook his head slightly. “I don’t like the thought of you regressing all by yourself.” Tommy was silent. “It must be scary, being so small by yourself. Right?” 

“I’m used to it.” 

“You don’t have to be,” he reasoned. “You can regress around me. I won’t ever make fun of you.” He smiled. “Well, I’m gonna tease you a bit, but it won’t be in the way you’re thinking.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked, cutting himself off with a squeak when Phil reached forward to pinch his side. 

“Like this,” he said, tickling him again as he shied away. “I tease with love.” 

“Stop,” he whined, covering his face. He tried to sober up, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You… you don’t really mean that.” 

“I do.” He was straight-faced. “I could even be your caregiver, if you wanted. I’d probably be shit, but at least you won’t be alone.” 

Tommy’s eyes brimmed with excitement. “Really?” He reached forward, grabbing ahold of his shoulders. “You’re not kidding? It’s not a bit?” 

“No, I wouldn’t joke about that.” A tear pooled in Tommy’s eyes. “Tommy, are you okay? If you’re that uncomfortable, we can just--” 

“I’d like that,” he interjected, wrapping his arms around him. “You sure it’s okay? I’m kind of a lot.” 

“I would be worried if you weren’t.” He scoffed slightly. “It’s you, we’re talking about, afterall.” He pushed Phil with his elbow, leaning against him as his chest shook with laughter. “Let’s go get breakfast with the others. You must be hungry.” 

Tommy furrowed his eyebrows together. Phil climbed off the bed, but he didn’t budge. “You go. I’ll come out later.” 

“How come, Tommy? You need to eat something, or--” 

“No, I know.” He tugged at his hair. 

Phil kneeled down to his level to catch his gaze. “Then what’s wrong?” Tommy looked away. 

“I don’t want to regress in front of the others,” he confessed in a quick breath. “I don’t know if I really trust myself.” 

“What if we made a code word?” he suggested. “If you start to feel like you’re going to regress, say a safe word.” 

“That’s… a really good idea.” He smiled, hopping off the bed. “It’ll be… Pokimane.” 

“That’ll do.” 

By the time they met the others in the kitchen, Techno was three slices of bacon in. Upon seeing them, Wilbur nudged Techno and set down his mug. “Hey! We’ve been waiting for you.” 

“Like hell!” Tommy stormed over, peering over Techno’s shoulder to grab a biscuit off his plate. “Can you even eat bacon? Being part pig?” 

“What’s wrong with cannibalism?” 

The table fell silent. And then into a loud fit of laughter. 

Tommy was already looking so much better than he had been. He still felt hot, and when Phil pressed him about it, he revealed his stomach was still hurting and his throat was a little sore. 

Wilbur dropped his box on the table and cringed at how empty the first aid kit was. 

Phil had wanted to go to the store anyways after Tommy showed him the most pathetic bag in the world. He didn’t know much about age regressors, but he knew only owning one stuffed toy isn’t enough. 

“I need to go to the store to fetch a thermometer,” he said, shifting through the box. 

“We need some more tea too,” Wilbur chimed in, sipping at his mug. 

“Oh, you’re going to the store?” Kristen yawned. “I’ll text you my list. I think I’m going back to bed.” 

She pressed a kiss to his cheek before escaping to her bedroom. He set his plate down in the dishwasher and slid his feet into his sandals. “Does anyone else need anything from the store?” He snatched his keys off the table, and he was about to open the door when Tommy came tripping over. 

“I’m going too!” he announced, walking with his feet barely in his shoes. 

“You need to be taking it easy.” 

“I’ll go too,” Wilbur said, already dressed and slipping a beanie on his head. 

Techno peered around the doorway. “Family roadtrip?” 

Phil really doesn’t know how it happened, but they were all packed into his car only a couple minutes later. They attracted some weird looks in the store. Phil, a man in his thirties dressed in minecraft pajama pants and sandals, Wilbur, looking as grunge and emo as ever with his oversized beanie and sweater, Techno, who was the only normal dressed of the bunch, and Tommy, who was wearing his classic baseball tee. It was a weird mix of people, but they didn’t care. 

They stocked up on groceries. When they had SBI sleepovers, they usually lasted for a couple nights. They were mostly home-bodies, a common trait in the streamer life, so they needed to stock up at home. 

While Techno and Wilbur were in the coffee and tea aisle, Phil dragged him over to the kids section. “Do you see anything you want?” 

“We’re in public,” he hissed. “What if someone sees?” 

“So?” he shrugged. “They won’t think anything of it.” 

He bit his lip. “No, I don’t want anything.” Tommy’s face was reddening, and he didn’t want to push him too far when he was already feeling bad. They carried down in the aisle, but he didn’t miss Tommy staring at a stuffed bear. He snatched it off the counter and put it in the buggy when no one was paying attention. 

They stocked up on some food and medicine, which they tore into almost instantly. 

“Can we get McDonald’s?” 

Wilbur peeked through the seats where Tommy was passed out in the passenger seat. “Yeah,” Phil replied, hitting his turn signal as he swerved into the other lane. “What do you want?” 

“Anything,” Techno rasped out. “Just don’t order a black coffee and drive off.” 

He raised his eyebrow and turned around. “What? That’s a little random.” 

Techno leaned into the window. “I have my reasons.” 

“Okay,” he paused. “What do you think Tommy wants?” 

Wilbur was tearing into a bag of chips. “Chicken nuggets.” The words were barely audible with the mess in his mouth. 

Phil ordered him a happy meal. 

They tore happily into their food, but he didn’t dare disturb Tommy until he had to. That kid needed as much sleep as he could get. Tommy slept through the car ride, occasionally stirring when someone spoke too loudly. Even when the car pulled to a stop in the driveway, he didn’t move. 

They paused for a moment, the whole car debating whether or not to wake him up. Their decision was decided for them when Tommy yawned loudly, woken up by the silence - ironic enough. “What’s--” he slurred, rubbing his eyes, “Why’s everyone looking at me?” 

Wilbur hit him upside the head with a bag of marshmallows. “You snore.” 

“I do not!” 

Phil, who had been ready to scoop him up and carry him inside, smiled and grabbed the grocery bags before heading inside. 

“Is your jet lag still bad?” 

Wilbur and Tommy were putting away the refridgerated food while Techno and Phil tackled the rest. “Not too bad,” Techno said, scratching the back of his neck. 

Phil hummed, studying him. “How about we just stay in today?” 

Techno sheepishly nodded. “That’d be nice, actually.” 

“Of course,” he said, standing up and balling up the bags. “I have some board games around here, I’m sure…” Techno watched as he opened up cabinet after cabinet before rubbing his chin. “Kristen, do you know where we put our games?” 

Phil headed off to find the games and his wife presumabely. Techno crossed one leg over the other, lost in thought. He got tired in social situations, even with his found family. Phil was always very considerate of that fact, unlike-- 

“Whatcha smiling about?” Tommy asked, flopping into the seat next to him with a kool-aid in his hand. 

Techno hadn’t even realized he was smiling. “Nuthing.” 

“Uh-huh,” he drawled, missing his mouth. He redirected the straw and narrowed his eyes. “You hiding something?” 

“Is it a crime to be happy?” 

Wilbur joined them with a bag of chips in hand. “Yes.” 

Phil returned, holding a pile of boxes in his hand. “Look what I found!” 

They went through a couple of games - Kristen playing for a few before retiring to her room with a book in hand. They settled upon Cards against Humanity. 

Tommy was winning. 

“Hah!” He stood up and snatched the card off the table. Wilbur groaned, covering his face with his hand. Techno elbowed him roughly. 

“Why did you pick that?” he hissed, almost knocking Wilbur out of his seat. 

“I didn’t know it was his!” Wilbur buried his face further into his open palms and fell flat against the table. “From now on, I’m just choosing the least funny card.” 

“Don’t do that,” Phil said softly. Everyone looked to the few cards in his hand. He really wasn’t good at this game. But, then again, neither was Wilbur. 

“Just don’t pick the one that sounds like Tommy,” Techno reasoned. 

“Hey!” Tommy barked. “That’s cheatin’! The mahagony!” 

“Mahagony?” Wilbur parroted. “What word did you mean to say?” 

“No, like, mahagony,” he continued, fumbling with his hands. “You know.” 

“That’s a type of cherry, innit?” Phil piped up. 

“That’s maraschino,” Techno corrected. 

Wilbur slammed his hand down. “Then what the fuck is mahagony.” 

Tommy types something into his phone. He pauses, reading the screen. “Uh,” he drawled. “Google says… your mum is a dirty wh--” 

“Lemme see that!” Wilbur snatched it out of his hand and scrolled down. “It’s wood.” He handed him back the phone. 

“Nah,” Tommy said. “That can’t be right.” 

“I think you should stop picking up words that you don’t know the meaning off,” Techno said. 

“Oh, right,” Phil hummed. “Like the fetish thing?” 

“Still think it’s funnier as a type of food.” 

Wilbur let out a large cackle. “Moving on, moving on…” 

\--- 

“How the fuck did you win?” 

Wilbur was pulling at his hair. Tommy won by a huge amount. Nobody had even come close to him. “I’m just that funny.” 

“No, seriously,” Techno cut in, peeking under the table. “You hoarding cards?” 

“No!” He crossed his arms behind his head and kicked his foot up. “This game’s easy.” They stared at him in amazement or rather confusion. One of those. “None of the cards make much sense anyways.” 

Wilbur covered his mouth. “What do you mean, Tommy?”

“Like this,” he said, lifting up a card. “What the hell is hentai, anyways?” 

“No, no, no,” Phil said, starting to pack up the game. “That’s enough of this game.” 

“What is it? What does it mean?” Nobody would meet his eyes. “Fine, I’ll just google--” 

“No!” 

Wilbur’s hand reached out to snatch the phone out of his hand, but Tommy was already running away. He tried to type and run at the same time, but he quickly ran into the couch and stumbled over. Wilbur jumped over the side, landing on top of him. “Wilbur, you’re gonna crush me!” 

“Don’t fucking google it, you gremlin!” He tried to reach for it again, and Tommy closed the phone and hugged it against him. Wilbur dug his fingers into his side, and Tommy let out a loud yelp. He withdrew instantly. “Tommy, are you hurt?” 

At that, the others were abandoning the table to swarm Tommy. “No.” 

Phil pulled up a chair. “Tommy. Did you hurt yourself?” 

“No!” he said again, twisting away from him. 

Wilbur glared at him. “He grimaced when I touched his ribs.” Oh god, Tommy can’t do this. He tried to escape the couch, but Techno was blocking the way. He bit his lip. “Is your chest sore?” Wilbur reached out again, and Tommy smacked his hand. 

“No, I’m fine!” 

“You’re acting like a bratty child.” Tommy stiffened. Was he… was he slipping? Fuck, get it together. Phil was looking just as concerned, waiting for him to use the codeword. He met his gaze and shook his head. He could handle it. 

Noticing he’s grown quieter, Wilbur continued, “Can I look, please? I’ll be gentle, I promise.” Tommy sucked in a deep breath. 

“I’m not hurt--” 

“Tommy, cut the bullshit--” 

“It...it was…” Tommy bit his lip. He couldn’t even say it. 

Wilbur picked up on it, though. He was being honest, at least, even if he couldn’t say what he was trying to. He slowly reached out with a gentle hand and poked him in the side to test his suspicions. “Oh,” he said simply, a sadistic smile spreading across his face. “Oh, I think you are hurt, Tommy. I need to make sure everything’s okay.” 

“Wilbur, please don’t--” But it was too late. The man dug his fingers into his side, and Tommy yelped, twisting to get away from him. “Wilbur, hah--Stop!” 

“What were you trying to tell me earlier?” he said instead, squeezing his side as Tommy tried to hold back a cackle. 

“God--” He seethed, cutting himself off with his own laughter. “Mean! Wilby, you’re so--fuck, mean!” 

“Aw,” he cooed, fingers traveling up higher to barely  _ graze  _ his armpit, and Tommy screeched and kicked his foot out. “I’m glad to hear Wilby make a comeback.” 

“Shut up!” He kicked at him again, and Wilbur just smiled, deciding to take pity on him and leave his armpit alone. Tommy watched his hand move and he curled up into the corner. “Wilbur, we can talk about this.” 

“Boo,” he pouted. “I liked my nickname better.” 

“Wilby,” he corrected, “Just… stop for a second and think about this. I am not a man you want to pick a fight with.” 

“You’re right,” he sighed. Tommy sunk with relief. “You’re just a kid.” He brushed against his neck, and Tommy cackled again. 

“Stop, Wilby, mean!” 

“Maybe I will,” he hummed, slowing down a second. “If you tell me what were you gonna say earlier.” 

“Like he--hah! Stop, like hell!” 

“Guess I’ll keep going then.” 

“Phil,” he whined, reaching out for him. “Please?” 

Wilbur stopped, watching Phil carefully to see if he was going to try and rip him away. “Aw, okay,” Phil said. “You need some help?” 

“Yes! God, does no one listen to me?” Phil got off his chair and grabbed him by the foot. “Phil? What are you--Holy fuck!” 

“What?” he asked coyly. “I thought you wanted help?” 

“E-Evil,” he stammered, covering his face with his hands. “S-so…” He hiccuped suddenly. “Mean!” 

“Why? Does it hurt?” Wilbur asked, clearly egging him on. “If you tell me honestly, I’ll stop.” 

Tommy tried to get air in, but he was laughing so hard he couldn’t breathe properly. “Oka-okay!” he said. “It ti--” The word dies in his throat. 

He can’t say it. 

He can’t fucking say it. 

“It what, Tommy?” Techno purrs. He’s leaned back in the recliner with a phone in his hand. 

Oh, fuck no. 

“Are you video--Hey!”  __

“Think of the likes, Tommy.” 

“Fuck off!” he hiccuped again, going silent suddenly. 

Wilbur and Phil stop, concerned at the sudden silence. “Tommy?” Wilbur tugs at the hand covering his face, revealing a flush of red. Tommy’s mouth is hung open, hiccuping occasionally. “Oh my god.” 

“You’ve broken him.” 

And it was true. Tommy was reduced to a mush of hiccups. His chest shook with silent laughter, and they deemed it was enough. 

The first word out of his mouth was “asshole.” He’d started to get his breath back. The color was gradually returning to him. 

“Who knew you were so ticklish?” Back to red, just at the mention of the word. 

Tommy fanned himself and twisted his head to the side. “Am not ti--.. I’m not.” 

“He can’t even  _ say  _ it.” 

“What’s wrong with the word, Toms?” Phil teased. “You don’t like tickling?” 

“I’d say he liked it,” Techno said, taking a quick photo. Tommy seethed in another breath before climbing on top of him, weakly reaching for it. “If his laughter’s anything to go off of. What’re you doing with my phone?” 

“Delete it.” Techno did the absolute bare minimum, holding it over his head. Tommy blindly reached for it. “Give it back, meanie.” 

“Meanie?” he parroted. Phil needed to get him out of here. “It’s a good picture.” 

“It’s not,” he whined, reaching his hand out for it, struggling to reach it. He could easily stand up and snatch it, but the thought doesn’t occur to him. “I look stupid.” 

“I think it’s good.” Tommy whined again. “I won’t post it.” 

“Promise?” Techno’s lips parted in confusion. Even Wilbur’s jaw had dropped. 

Tommy held out his pinky. Techno’s throat went dry at the sight and he gulped painfully before wrapping his fingers around his. “I promise.” 

“Yay,” he praised, losing complete interest in the phone as he sunk down in his lap. “Thanks, Techie.” 

“Alright,” Phil declared before it could get any worse. “Let’s get you to bed.” 

He scooped him up off of Techno, who almost looked… disappointed? “No, no bed,” Tommy whined but didn’t resist Phil picking him up. “Wan’ stay up.” 

“You’re little, Tommy.” 

“I’m not.” 

Phil hesitated. “I don’t think Big you would be very happy if they found out,” he countered. “For now, let’s get some sleep.” 

“Don’t wanna!” He set him down on the bed, but Tommy sat back up. “I’m not tired.” 

He crossed his arms over his chest. “I don’t like it when you lie, Little One.” 

Tommy melted at the nickname, reaching out for Phil. Phil smiled and slipped into the bed with him. He climbed up on top of him and rested his head against him. “I’m really not,” he begged. “I wanna stay. Don’t wan be alone.” 

“I’m right here.” Tommy wasn’t convinced. “Right here, Tommy. With you. I’m not going anywhere.” 

“You’ll stay?” 

“Of course, Tommy. I’ll stay.” He then remembered the bag in the car. “Actually, wait--” 

“No, you promised!” 

“I’m getting you a surprise. You’ll like it, I promise.” 

“I don’t care,” he huffed. 

Phil hesitated. “You don’t want a toy?” He tried a chipper tone with the boy, but Tommy just huffed again and kicked his leg out. 

“I want you,” he insisted, reaching both of his hands out. 

He choked up, trying to get it together. “Okay,” he said, wiping at his face. He was so cute; he couldn’t help it. “You’re so bratty, you know?” 

“I know.” Phil wrapped him in a hug. “But you’ll spoil me anyways because I’m cute.” 

He hummed. “You are pretty adorable.” 

Tommy stiffened, pushing him lightly. “Hey!” 

“What? I can’t call my Little One cute?” 

“No,” he said, covering his face. “It’s embarrassing.” 

“You just called yourself cute.” 

“I was joking!” 

Phil gasped dramatically, covering his heart. “Oh no,” he said. “Tommy, you are so wrong.” He tapped him lightly on the nose. “You are a very cute lil’ bug.” 

“Bug?” He scrunched up his nose. “Shut up, bird man. Stop calling me cute.” 

“It’s just the truth.” He ruffled his hair. “You’re a very sweet kid. Even if you’re a little brat.” He wrapped him tighter in his arms. “I don’t mind spoiling you, though. I’ll give you as many cuddles as you want.” 

Tommy giggled, pressing his forehead against his. “Really?” 

“Yes,” he chirped back. “Poor baby’s just so touch-starved, isn’t he?” He rubbed circles into his back, and Tommy made a soft nose, clinging to him with all his strength. “It’s okay, baby. I’m right here.” 

Tommy jolted suddenly, and he placed a comforting hand on the back of his head. When he did it again, he pulled him away from him only to gasp. “Tommy? What’s wrong?” 

There were tears pooling in his eyes. “I…” 

“Are you uncomfortable? Did I--” 

“I don’t wanna be alone anymore.” Phil’s heart sunk. 

“It must’ve been so scary,” he consoled him, cradling him to his chest. “I’m right here, Tommy. I’m not going anywhere.” 

“I’m… I’m really happy.” The tears were streaming down his face. Phil wiped them away. “I’m so happy. Phil, I--” 

“Shh,” he hushed, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “It’s okay, baby. You’re alright. Everything’s okay.” 

It was the first time in a very long time Tommy believed that.

\--

“What’s taking Phil so long?” Wilbur whined, kicking his legs up on the table and sipping at the cocktail he’s made. If Tommy was gonna be asleep, he saw no harm in breaking out the alcohol. 

“Maybe he died,” Techno added, unhelpfully. Wilbur shot him a glare. He got off the couch, stumbling a little. “Hey, bambi, need some help?” 

“I’m gonna go get him,” he said, waving his hand as he walked down the hallway. He stopped at Tommy’s room and creaked open the door. 

He’s not quite sure what he expected. Maybe Phil and Tommy in a fight or just talking. 

Not… not Tommy curled up with his thumb tucked into his mouth with Phil stroking his head with his eyes closed. 

He… he should probably go. But he can’t help but  _ stare  _ at the sight. He plans to move, he really does, but Phil’s opening his eyes. Oh fuck he’s opening his eyes-- 

They stare at each other. Alarm passes across Phil’s face, and Wilbur doesn’t speak. He lifts up a finger and holds it over his lips. 

He could practically hear him going  _ shhh.  _

Right. Wilbur swallowed before closing the door. 

He’ll unpack that in the morning. 

He sits down in the chair and opens a can. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi uh ia ctually couldnt find this fic bc i forgot i made it anonymous LMAO my user iss /fuglychan if anyone wants to check out my other shit but uh i jus post this anon bc uhhh scary people yanno anyways
> 
> i hope y'all enoyed!! im working on two other longfics rn but a lot of u guys were really nice and liked this so i will try my best to keep it updated!! 
> 
> feel free to check out my other shit fics if u want lmao while u wait for me to update LMAO i will try my best

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first time writing this coping mechanism so be nice and it will prob be really light tbh
> 
> idk how to make this anon so uh dont attack me if u hate this or something, it's for coping mechanisms anyways uh
> 
> bye now lmao kudos + comments are really appreciated! no hate or constructive criticism ok tho im really fragile and this is for fun only and to give some seratonin out


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